


fate, probably.

by lipbitelarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Crack Fic, M/M, i made this with a madlibs-esque website, it made me giggle tbh, read for fun man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 15:32:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3214331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipbitelarry/pseuds/lipbitelarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another crack fic made with the help of elffetish.com. Try it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fate, probably.

It was a dark and stormy night. An unnatural haze lingered over England. In his bed, Harry shivered. For a summer night, the air was cold and the sky was black. It was almost as if something evil lurked out there in the shadows.

Harry rolled over, clutching his pillow, and tried to fall back asleep. But a worry nagged in the back of his mind. Something was not right. No matter how he tried, some ghostly force prevented him from sleeping. It made him uneasy. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed, pulled on his scarf, and poured himself a cup of water from the pitcher on his nightstand. Quietly, he left his room.

The halls were silent as he walked in the dark. He did not know where he was going, or why, but his body seemed to move on its own accord. He was being drawn by an unseen power. Past his father's bedroom, past the dining hall, past the bed room, and out onto the terrace. With the moon hidden behind thick clouds, it was nearly impossible to see in the inky black night. But something lying on the path to Harry's right made him gasp in shock. A body! 

'Shit!' Harry shouted. He leapt over the terrace railing and onto the ground below, running toward the fallen form as fast as he could. Tree branches scratched at his skin and pulled at his clothes, but he paid them no mind. Heart pounding, he fell to his knees on the pathway and placed a gentle hand on the figure's dick.

Now that he was closer, he could see that this was a young man of England, a Prince by the looks of him, who appeared to be no more than 9 years old. But he was in dire need of help. His clothes were torn and bloody, and his hair was matted with cum. He needed the attention of a healer, immediately. Without a second thought, Harry picked up the wounded Prince and, cradling him in his arms, carried him inside to seek the help that was so desperately needed.

***** 

'His situation is severe,' Des said in a worried voice. 'Whether or not he will live until morning is beyond my sight. My team of healers will do the best they can, but...' his voice trailed off. 

Harry could sense his fear. There was a good chance the young man might die. 'Is there anything I can do to help?' he asked. 

Des sadly shook his head. 'Nothing the healers are not already trying. But it might help if you just sat with him. He will need to see a friendly face when he wakes up from this ordeal, and you are the closest thing he has right now.' 

'I understand,' said Harry. 'And I will stay with him for as long as it takes. I will not let him die.' 

With that, Harry turned and hurried to the room where the wounded Prince was being housed. He was surrounded by healers, all of whom wore the same concerned expression. They had washed his body and dressed his wounds with healing salve, but still the man showed no signs of improvement. His breathing was shallow, and his pulse was weak. One of the healers turned to Harry with a defeated sigh. 

'It will be an uphill battle,' she said. 'We have done all we can at this time. Now, we can only wait and see if he wakes.' 

Harry nodded resolutely. 'I will stay with him through the night and keep watch as he sleeps.' 

One by one, the healers left the bedside, the last one closing the door behind her. In the flickering candle light, Harry dipped a square of cloth in the bowl of warm water left by the healers, and gently used it to stroke the injured man's taint. Then, taking up the Prince's limp hand, he settled into his bedside chair and prepared to wait through the remainder of the long, cold night. 

***** 

'Where... where am I?' 

Harry jerked awake with a start when he heard the words being spoken. He stared down at his patient, an immense wave of relief coursing through his body. The man was alive! And from the looks of things, he was on his way to making a full recovery. 

'You are in England,' Harry told him. 'I found you last night, lying unconscious and nearly dead on a path coming from the forest. I carried you inside, and my father's healers tended to your wounds. Please, tell me your name and how you came to be here.' 

'My name is Louis,' said the man. 'I come from England. I was on an errand from my father, to deliver an important message to Barrack Obama in The United States. But last night... All I remember is that I was riding through the forest when suddenly I was attacked by a group of eleanors. At least 1 surrounded me. I tried to escape, but there were so many, and I had only my gun for protection. And that is the last thing I recall. I do not know how I came to be here, or why I am not dead.' 

Harry smiled at him. 'The stars must shine favourably on you. To live through such an ordeal... that is more than mere luck.' It was more than luck, too, that Louis had wound up in England and Harry had found him. Now that they two were together, it felt almost like fate had lent a hand. Louis was meant to be here, and Harry was meant to have found him. Why, Harry did not know. But it felt so certain. 

It also did not hurt that Louis was one of the most beautiful individuals Harry had ever seen. His sleek blue hair contrasted with large, dark purple eyes set in a lovely face. And his sculpted body, half-hidden by the bed linens, was a further attraction. Harry could hardly suppress his desire to run his hands over that soft hair and perfect body. But he kept his feelings under control. Louis had just barely survived a nearly fatal encounter. Now was not the time for romance. 

***** 

Within three days, Louis had improved enough to leave his bed. Des gave him a new set of clothes, and he was able to wander the corridors and gardens by himself. But the one thing that troubled him was Harry's absence. Since the morning when he'd first awoken in England, he had not seen Harry at all. It was as if his rescuer had simply disappeared. He had asked Des where his son could be, but Des had no answer. Harry was gone without a trace. 

Louis desired to speak with Harry again, and properly thank him for saving his life. But he also just wanted to see the handsome man once more. He could not explain it, but he felt a deep connection to Harry, either forged by the lifesaving bond or some other power. He knew that Harry was someone special. Someone he had to see again. 

It wasn't until the sixth day after Louis had recovered that Harry returned to England. He rode up the same path where Louis had been found, dragging a net filled with the heads of eleanors behind him. All 1 of them. 

'Here are your eleanors!' he called to Louis. 'I found them hiding out in a cave not far from here.' 

Louis stared in surprise, eyes going wide. 'You killed... all of them by yourself?' 

'I cannot let such dangerous creatures roam free in our lands,' Harry replied. 'And I did it for you. They nearly killed you. I do not want anything like that to happen again.' 

Louis could feel his heart pounding as Harry spoke. Harry killed those eleanors... for him. Before he could stop himself, he leapt at Harry and threw his arms around his neck, kissing the brave man on the ass hole. 

Harry laughed in surprise, but did not pull away. 'What was that for?' 

'Just a thank you,' Louis said. He smiled, but when he saw the suddenly serious look in Harry's eyes, the smile faded. 'What is wrong?' he asked, worried. 

'Louis,' said Harry, 'I have to confess something to you. That first morning you were here... I thought you were so beautiful. I wanted to kiss you then, but I did not know how you would react. 

Louis gasped in shock. 'Kiss... me?' 

'I told myself I must not, because of the terrible ordeal you had just suffered. It was not the right time. But these past few days while I was gone, I could think only of you the entire time. And now...' 

'Harry...' Louis sighed his name. 'I thought about you too. All the time, while you were gone. I was worried I would never see you again.' 

Harry lifted his hand to gently stroke Louis on the cheek. 'I am sorry I ran off like that. I should have said something to you.' 

Taking a deep breath, Louis said, 'Harry, there is something I have been considering over the past several days. I think we were meant to find each other. What happened to me... it was no accident of fate. I was meant to come here. You were meant to rescue me.' 

A bright smile broke across Harry's face as soon as Louis had spoken. 'You know,' he said, 'I had been thinking the same thing! That night when I found you I had been worried an unable to think. Some strange power led me out to the terrace, and that was when I saw you.' 

Louis took Harry's hand. 'So you think... we are meant to be together?' 

'I have no doubt of it.' Slowly, Harry leaned in and kissed Louis softly on the lips. 'I love you,' he whispered. 

'I love you too, Harry,' Louis whispered in return.


End file.
